THE IMAGINARY MARRIAGE

by Henry St. John Cooper

CHAPTER I

A MASTERFUL WOMAN

“Don’t talk to me, miss,” said her
ladyship. “I don’t want to hear any
nonsense from you!”

The pretty, frightened girl who shared the drawing-room
at this moment with Lady Linden of Cornbridge Manor
House had not dared to open her lips. But that
was her ladyship’s way, and “Don’t
talk to me!” was a stock expression of hers.
Few people were permitted to talk in her ladyship’s
presence. In Cornbridge they spoke of her with
bated breath as a “rare masterful woman,”
and they had good cause.

Masterful and domineering was Lady Linden of Cornbridge,
yet she was kind-hearted, though she tried to disguise
the fact.

In Cornbridge she reigned supreme, men and women trembled
at her approach. She penetrated the homes of
the cottagers, she tasted of their foods, she rated
them on uncleanliness, drunkenness, and thriftlessness;
she lectured them on cooking.

On many a Saturday night she raided, single-handed,
the Plough Inn and drove forth the sheepish revellers,
personally conducting them to their homes and wives.

They respected her in Cornbridge as the reigning sovereign
of her small estate, and none did she rule more autocratically
and completely than her little nineteen-year-old niece
Marjorie.

A pretty, timid, little maid was Marjorie, with soft
yellow hair, a sweet oval face, with large pathetic
blue eyes and a timid, uncertain little rosebud of
a mouth.

“A rare sweet maid her be,” they said
of her in the village, “but terribul tim’rous,
and I lay her ladyship du give she a rare time of
it....” Which was true.

“Don’t talk to me, miss!” her ladyship
said to the silent girl. “I know what is
best for you; and I know, too, what you don’t
think I know—­ha, ha!” Her ladyship
laughed terribly. “I know that you have
been meeting that worthless young scamp, Tom Arundel!”

“Oh, aunt, he is not worthless—­”

“Financially he isn’t worth a sou—­and
that’s what I mean, and don’t interrupt.
I am your guardian, you are entirely in my charge,
and until you arrive at the age of twenty-five I can
withhold your fortune from you if you marry in opposition
to me and my wishes. But you won’t—­you
won’t do anything of the kind. You will
marry the man I select for you, the man I have already
selected—­what did you say, miss?